


To The Sea

by OneDarkWindow



Series: JearminWeek 2018 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, What-If, canon compliant until further information is available about the time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14263188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneDarkWindow/pseuds/OneDarkWindow
Summary: The Sea was the Dream, the goal, the ultimate expression of the freedom the survey corp fought and died for the right to see it and swim in it's waters. But the Sea is no fairy tale, and the Scouts soon learn that She has many moods and not all of them are sympathetic to human life. During a mission to establish the first light warning systems along the coast, Jean and Armin set out to build one of the first when a violent storm robs them of supplies and cuts them off from the others. Would the Sea remain a dream, or was it truly a nightmare?For TheJearminCollective's JearminWeek2018 prompt: Survival





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one was meant to be a one shot, but I feel like it's itching for a few more chapters. I will probably return to it and rewrite some things and I'm sure I've missed some typos since it's 2am and I need to sleep but...
> 
> hopefully it's an interesting diversion for at least a short while. :)

For all of their training, there was little that could have prepared the Recon Corp for the Sea. Whether the body of water had a different name, no one was sure, but by the end of their first full week researching everything they possibly could about it a lot of unkind names were invented for it.    
  
First, the interior wanted topographical measurements of its depths, and it was discovered that there was a deep shelf that appeared not too far from shore and dropped unwary scouts in very deep water. Most of them had learned to swim in lakes and rivers, and nothing prepared them for waves this big, or currents so strong, or its strange tendency to swell larger and smaller at different times of day and night and swallowing half the beach.    
  
The sea life they were able to catch and study were much larger in general than the fish they were used to catching in their mountain lakes apart from the odd catfish or old carp.There were crustaceans of all sorts, and new trade routes for merchants were developed almost immediately to provide new food sources for the residents of Paradis who had spent many years in famine. They discovered all of the dangerous things in the worst ways possible; that the flat diamond shaped fish things had stinging barbed tails...that the floating translucent jelly bags had stinging tentacles...that some creatures were poisonous and quite deadly. What’s more, a lot of scouts did not know to boil the salt water and drink the clear condensation that had to be collected carefully and instead they grew dehydrated and confused as to why they were so thirsty.    
  
Hange and Armin were careful to record all of their findings diligently, whereas Eren and Connie were put in charge of small groups of Scouts tasked with measuring tides and depths. (Largely by watching Eren walk out to sea until he fell in over his head, and repeating this every day until they could measure how much the tide rose and fell, much to Eren’s annoyance). Sasha was familiar enough with animals to recognize the warning signs of those creatures that were likely poisonous and was quite capable with handling them, so she was placed in charge of helping classify the creatures for study. Jean, who boasted some art skill, was conscripted to sketch every new plant and animal they came across in excruciating detail. He’d already worn down four charcoal pencils and already had sunburn. When they began building boats, Flocke was given the riveting task of monitoring buoys and crab traps at first, then was able to conscript a couple of scouts to haul nets and trawl for food with Sasha’s help so that trips back to resupply were limited. Levi and Mikasa were the strongest swimmers, and were put in charge of keeping an eye on anyone in the water who might be in trouble.    
  
The second day, the Scouts learned that the signs of drowning were harder to read in choppy waters when the sky was grey, and they lost someone. For Armin, his love of the sea had always been a romantic ideal; this expanse of salty water with seemingly no bottom teeming with life. He hadn’t expected it to begin taking lives, nor be quite so big and black beneath the surface.    
  
By the third day, they were hit by a late summer storm that began to usher in autumn. The sky grew dark and tossed boats like toys upon the sand, grounding them and damaging supplies and research. The spray filled their nostrils and dampened their papers and covered everything with moisture. It was difficult to stay dry, and they made the mistake of building their beach fires below the tide line and spent the night in the damp dark, with the roar of the surf and a sky full of thunder overhead. 

 

Armin shuddered, hearing the rain pelting on the roof of their tent. He could see Jean’s outline wrapped up in his blankets on the cot opposite him, his breath falling slow and even. Armin couldn’t sleep, worried that the tide would rise higher in the storm and wash them all away; humanity’s hope lost at sea just when they were getting their bearings. Anxious thoughts filled his head, that he’d left some important books out in the rain and they’d have to do all of those experiments over again. Surely his grandfather stashed other forbidden books about the world back in their home in Shiganshina? It was his home now; the rubble he was slowly pushing back into a semblence of a living space. He hadn’t reached the library yet but...maybe there would be something there. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He bolted from his cot and ran out into the punishing rain, leaving his scout poncho behind as he ran to Hange and Levi’s tent. The soft glow of a candle within promised him that Hange was pulling another all nighter, so he delivered his news quietly after his initial appearance had caused sleeping Levi to curse him for the startle.    
  
Meanwhile, Jean woke in the commotion to an empty tent and the distant sound of Levi’s expletive. He sat up and noticed Armin was gone, and his blood ran cold believing that he would not have left the safety and shelter of their tent unless in an emergency during a storm like this. He took a deep breath to try and settle his fear before making any rash decisions. He stood up and pulled on an undershirt before throwing on his poncho and lighting his lantern, prepared for an all night search. At that moment, Armin ducked back into the tent and crashed into him. 

 

“Ah!”

 

“OW”    
  
Armin rubbed his head where it had collided with the top of Jeans as he sat in a wet pile of sand dune.    
  
“What are you doing out here without a coat?” Jean nearly blinded Armin with his lantern. Armin squinted back, wincing from the glow.    
  
“I had something important to tell Hange, so I didn’t want to wait...because they wouldn’t want me to wait...and I couldn’t sleep with all this racket,” Armin gestured around him. Jean exhaled, glad for Armin’s safety but still trying to shake off his fear that something had happened. He pulled the younger teen to his feet and guided him back into their tent. Jean sat back on his cot and watched Armin fuss with his blankets.    
  
“What was so important?”    
  
“Mmm, I remembered that my grandfather’s library might contain some books with more information about this environment. I figure it’s a risk we’d be willing to take to send a squad out to look through it if we can spare some lives out here,” Armin looked toward the roar of the surf and trailed off.    
  
“That book of yours didn’t say too much, huh?”    
  
“It certainly failed to mention it’s more dangerous aspects, yes. All of the depictions were full on sapphire sky and balmy seas but...it’s a living thing, isn’t it? The sea,” Armin sighed deeply. “I should have known, really. I feel silly admitting it now but...I guess I didn’t quite expect this.”    
  


“That all massive things are dangerous in some way? I could have told you that I guess. I’ve heard Sasha go on and on about how mountains punish their residents who don’t respect their wilderness. And, you know, titans. Surely a big body of water didn’t just sit around being water.”   
  
Armin frowned. “Yeah, I know. It’s still unreal, us being here. But then, the real thing is always different from the dream. I should have known.”   
  
“Min, I wasn’t calling you stupid. You didn’t create the ocean,” Jean rubbed the back of his neck.    
  
“Some might say I’d cried enough tears to fill one. Maybe they’re right. Goodnight, Jean.” Armin laid down and pulled his blankets over his head, trying to end the conversation. He could feel Jean staring at him still before he extinguished his lantern.    
  
“Ok, Min. I won’t press. Goodnight.”    
  
  
  
The next morning, Hange sent a small party of scouts to the Arlert residence in Shiganshina to research the possibility of reference books. The morning after the storm was crystal clear with crisp morning air and a glassy teal sea. The storm had washed many varieties of flotsam upon the sand, and the scouts were assigned to different parts of the island to do research. For many of them, it was a hard day’s ride, but the horses loved running along the beach when they had nothing to pull.    
  
Jean and Armin were assigned to establish a research outpost on a high promontory overlooking the sea so that fires they lit there might be visible for miles and might warn their future seafaring vessels about the rocks in the shallows. Armin took his time, pulling a wagon of supplies over dunes slowly to avoid spills. The first thing Hange did was devise a way to fix circular flotation devices as treads to cart wheels so that traversing the dunes would be far easier. They were to build a sturdy shelter there and return after two weeks of research.    
  
It seemed deceptively simple, but Armin was nervous about spending this much time alone with anyone that wasn’t Eren, and especially one that he’d grown to admire in ways that were getting harder to hide or explain. It took them three days, as they needed to stop and change tires to match the terrain they were traveling across. They took the long way around in order to get the supplies as far up the hill as they could before the terrain became rocky and impossible. 

 

Jean hopped off the cart and rubbed his butt comically exclaiming “Oh praaaaaise the walls we’ve arrived. My ass was going to fall off.”    
  
Armin blushed, realizing he had stared a fraction too long at Jean’s ass before he hopped off the cart and looked around. Above the tree line, more storm clouds were beginning to form and darken. Jean grinned at Armin, ready to call him out until he followed Armin’s stare toward the clouds and he too became concerned. They didn’t have much time to throw together a shelter out here before the rain would come, and a lot of supplies still had to get to the top of the hill.    
  
The pair began to unload the packs containing their tent and cots, and started hauling up the steep grade. Armin recommended they set their tents up just below the top of the hill to act as a windbreak on the grassy side, since the wind will have beaten the other side and it would be less habitable for a while. Jean went about setting up the tent, doing his best to drive tent stakes between the stones and sand while Armin unfolded both of their cots. As if on cue, the wind picked up as soon as Jean was finished pitching the tent, blowing their cloaks wildly around them.    
  
“Should we wait this storm out before we get the rest of the supplies or what?” Jean called over the wind.    
  
“Let’s get as much moved as we can so we can get the horses to shelter in the woods over there,” Armin pointed. “Essentials for now. Food, and firewood we can stash in the tent.”   
  
“Right. Essentials!” Jean nodded, and the pair hurried awkwardly down the hill to pull more items from the wagon. Armin shook his head as Jean struggled to carry as much as he possibly could in one go. The wagon was full of heavy timber, a manual drill, and metal pipes with which to build a respectable shelter as well as enough rations to get them through the two week period. Armin slung extra blankets over his shoulder and dragged a metal box up the hill causing a great ruckus.    
  
“I can hear you coming from all the way up here!” Jean called down, just as lightning struck somewhere in the woods close enough for his hair to stand on end. Armin tripped and fell in surprise while the thunderclap rang so loudly Jean winced covering his ears. The horses bolted away into the forest, tearing off so quickly that some building supplies fell out of the back before they disappeared into the woods. Jean shouted after them and ran nimbly down after them in pursuit but stopped when he realized Armin was squeezing his head in pain on the ground. He looked to the horses and cursed before stooping down to check on Armin. The blonde boy had tears in his eyes and pain on his face.    
  
“Are you ok?” Jean worried. Armin looked at him blankly and shook his head no. “What’s wrong??”    
  
“I can’t hear you!” Armin shouted.    
  
“Let me help you up the hill!” Jean shouted.    
  
“What????” Armin shouted again. “The horses!”   
  


Jean shook his head and scooped him up along with what he had been carrying and carried him to the tent despite the other’s protestations. His own ears hurt and his head was ringing, but he’d been able to cover his in time securely, whereas Armin had already tripped and fallen.    
  
“Do we have the medikit?” Jean asked, forgetting. Armin was confused, absently looking for something. He tried to stand and immediately swooned and fell over against Jean.    
  
“WE SHOULD FIND THE MEDIKIT!” Armin shouted too loudly against Jean, who already had a building headache.    
  
“I KNOW I’M LOOKING!”    
  
“WHAT??”    
  
Jean turned suddenly and put a finger to Armin’s lips, instantly hushing the shorter boy. They locked eyes for a moment before Armin carefully removed Jean’s finger and sat quietly and stared into the void. Jean sighed and dug through his bag to find a spare sketchbook and pencil. He wrote “ _ Your hearing was damaged, but you should heal soon with your titan ability. If you have a concussion, that will heal too _ .”    
  
Armin took the notebook and read it before writing back “ _ The horses? _ ”   
  
“ _ We will look for them when the storm passes. It wouldn’t do any good right now for us to separate. They cannot have gotten far and they will have left a trail _ ”

 

Another lightning flash illuminated the tent before the rain came down in sheets. Armin sighed and laid down on his cot carefully to stare glassy eyed at the tent, a silent plea that the fabric didn’t leak on them. Jean fished around again for the medikit and crawled over next to Armin to inspect the gash on his forehead.    
  
“Leave it,” Armin murmured, but Jean persisted. “Jean it’ll heal on it’s own. I’m not as fragile as I used to be.” He couldn’t hear the bitterness in his own voice, but he could feel Jean dabbing his forehead with gauze, ignoring him. “Jean. Please I feel useless enough already.”    
  
Jean stopped and picked up his notebook, and wrote for what felt like several minutes.    
  
“ _ First of all, you may heal but there’s debris in your wound that needs cleaning. Small bits of stone and sand need removal. Secondly, you weren’t useless before you were a titan, you’re not useless now, and you never were useless in your entire life. Don’t start thinking that way right now while we’re in a situation. _ ” 

 

Armin held up the notebook to read it and exhaled. “Of course. Proceed, doctor.”   
  
Jean made a face before writing “ _I’m not sure I’d make a very good doctor. Too many casualties._ ”   
  
“Eren’s father was a good one. Very few casualties when you’re good at something, and I’m sure if you were dedicated to it you’d be exemplary. Besides, we’re already experts on casualties” Armin’s ears were ringing now, but his hearing was still absent.   
  
“Sure, but some of us save one another’s lives too over and over and never let us repay them,” Jean said aloud, knowing that Armin couldn’t hear him. He pulled tweezers from the medikit and began removing debris from the gash on Armin’s head. It was always head wounds with this boy, Jean thought.   
  
“What?”   
  
Jean paused to pick up the notebook and lied “I said thank you.”   
  
“Oh. You’re welcome. But it’s the truth.” Armin closed his eyes and bore through the sting of his wounds while Jean flushed it out with salt water. “If we can’t find the horses we’ll have to survive here for two weeks until they send a search party out. I’m sure we have enough here to make it through without too much trouble.”   
  
“Says the guy with the head wound and no hearing,” Jean smirked.   
  
“What?”   
  
Jean shook his head. The door of their military tent was open enough to overlook a churning grey sea, frothing with white caps and sending spray upwards toward them. The waves were growing larger, and though there was plenty of distance between their tent and the surf with the tide line well below them, neither knew how far the waves might kick up during a storm. 

 

Jean wrote  _ Should we try to relocate our tent into the forest? _ And nudged Armin with the notebook.

Armin scanned the page and glanced out the window, squinting. The world was spinning, and the undulating sea made him feel nauseous. He covered his mouth, certain he might vomit, and waited for the feeling to pass before he said “No. Wait it out. We’ll just get everything soaked and we can’t afford to get cold. We’d get hypothermia at night. Or at least, you would.”    
  
“I’d be fine, I’d just cuddle close to you for titan warmth.” Jean grinned. Armin narrowed his eyes, fairly certain he’d understood what Jean said.    
  
“Or we can not risk ruining our supplies in case these are all we have. If the waves come within 25 meters, then we move.”    
  
Jean nodded, writing. “ _ Hopefully this will pass quickly so we can locate the wagon. _ ”

 

But it didn’t pass quickly, and the two hunkered down in a tent that felt impossibly small and frail against the might of the storm and the sea. Hours went by, and night began to fall before they made the decision to try and move camp to the woods for shelter. The waves rose up like white tipped fingers on swollen dark hands and slammed into the rock without restraint. The full awesome majesty of the sea was illuminated between flashes of lightning in the darkening dusk and it was all the light they had to unstake the tent and move gracelessly into the woods dragging its contents behind them. They both got soaked through, but managed to keep most everything else dry. Armin’s hearing still hadn’t returned, but he was able to move without too much dizziness. They lay in the dark, one unable to hear the other, praying that no tree would fall on them and the sea didn’t wash them away. Armin closed his eyes and focused on trying to heal his deafness, hoping to be better company for Jean. He’d known the other boy long enough to know that he ran his mouth ceaselessly when he was frustrated or frightened, a trait Armin found endearing. After a while, he could hear the rhythmic timbr of Jean’s voice and he realized that he’d been talking to the dark for some time now. He strained and focus to listen.   
  
“It really is as beautiful as it is frightening, the sea. I can understand why you’d be drawn to something like that, given who you surround yourself with and you know. You. Being you. The ocean is quite like you. Unpredictable, with a lot going on beneath the surface. I feel like, maybe if other people lived on this island before we got dropped off and walled here, they’d have had a million songs and stories about it. Hell, we’ve been here for a week already and we’ve got some. I’m sure you can come up with all sorts, too. You’re brilliant like that. And you know, Min, it’s funny. I keep trying to draw the sea, really capture it you know? But it’s just like every time I try to draw you; I can’t seem to do you justice. And dammit, I want to! I want to show you the you that I see and believe in, but you’re so far from me. You’re right here in this tent, a foot away, and you’re still so far from me...how do I cross this divide? Whatever these feelings are, I don’t know and I don’t care to name them I just...wish you’d let me in.”   
  
Armin swallowed the lump that caught in his throat, uncertain if he’d heard Jean correctly. “What feelings, Jean?” He whispered to the dark. Jean fell silent, then...the only sound was the drizzle against the tent and the roar of the sea.   
“So uh...you’re hearing is back huh?” Jean was shivering now.   
  
“Sortof...I think I missed a chunk of it though.”   
  
“Ah. Well, that’s good!”   
  
“You’re cold.”  
  
“Nah, only a little,” Jean’s teeth chattered.   
  
“Now who’s being stubborn? Jean change your clothes or I’m coming over there.”   
  
“Jeez, you want a private show huh?” Jean flashed a grin, but his voice was hollow. Armin rolled his eyes, and sat up slowly to aim himself at Jean’s cot. “Ok, ok! I’m changing!”   
  
Armin smirked ever so slightly and crossed his arms, staring at Jean.   
  
“Oh...you..you really want a show?” Suddenly Jean was bashful, but his lips were blue with cold. By all rights, it shouldn’t have been this cold but the wind off the sea was unseasonably chill and neither was used to it.   
  
“Are you stalling? Because I’m on my way over,” Armin threatened, as though a foot of space was some uncrossable chasm. Jean hardly had time to pull his shirt over his head before Armin pushed himself across to Jean’s cot and gracelessly pulled him down on top of him as they fell. Jean blinked, wondering if that was planned or not. The look of surprise on Armin’s face told him that no, it probably wasn’t, but the smaller boy was radiating warmth. What’s more, he was looking up at Jean with an unreadable expression. Like the sea; calm outside but raging within. “Sorry, I missed.”   
  
“That’s ok, you’re warm,” Jean hummed. Armin shifted over, breaking the spell a little, and laid on his side so he could share his body heat. Jean pulled a blanket over both of them and as they lay there, his anxiety melted out of him as he warmed up. The two fell into a comfortable sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms to a lullabye of rain, surf, and tree branches in the wind.   
  
  
\--To be continued? maybe? idk--  
  



	2. What is Necessary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and Jean are worn on the edges due to the ocean storm, but try and make the best of it by doing some beach combing before setting out to find their lost supply wagon and horses. Unfortunately, one of the animals is wounded beyond hope for revival and Jean finds himself in another situation where he is unable to pull a trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while since I updated any of my fics from Jearmin week back in April, but I promised that I would update this one soooo I waded through my writer's block and my frustration with writing for SnK in general...and here we are. This here's the build up before things get Real. Enjoy?
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR BLOOD AND HORSE INJURY

The storm raged into the early morning, reaching a crescendo of pounding surf, howling wind, and cracking pines. Their canvas tent, usually hardy enough for most weather, was flapping and whipping as though the walls were silk.    
  
Armin couldn’t sleep. Beside him, Jean had fallen into a deep slumber as he was comforted by Armin’s warmth. Several times throughout the morning, he thought he heard a woman’s voice on the wind; sometimes singing and other times screaming. Every time he began to nod off, the screams became Bertolt’s and the metallic taste of blood and bile would rise up in his mouth. It was a struggle unlike anything he’d ever known to feel the ghost of an old friend residing somewhere inside of you with memories that floated through like dreams. Armin knew what he was capable of as the Colossal Titan. His skin crawled and burned, his sinews bending and stretching and waiting for the moment the titan inside of him could be released with explosive force. Such a force Armin knew very well; it was remade into his every cell and slathered with the pressure to succeed. He had to become everything Erwin Smith might have been had he lived, and so much more, but here he was a small young man doing his damndest to stay focused on remaining calm and not blowing one of his closest friends and confidants to smithereens. It had taken Eren so long to figure out how to shift without the know-how of those that understood titan shifting, and the same precautions had been taken with Armin. Still, he was clumsy and prone to accidents like the one earlier. One misstep and he’d wipe this part of the shore totally off the map, not to mention the fate that would await Jean.    
  
The fear of losing Jean was so palpable he had to put his fingers to his own lips to be certain the screaming was the wind and not himself. 

 

When the winds finally died down, it was well past breakfast time and Jean was busy trying to get a fire going to heat some food, but all they really had were the dried emergency rations stashed in the medikit. He muttered curses at the dried food while he tried to get some water boiling. Armin slid off the cot with a creak and made his way outside.

 

“I’m gonna go uh...you know. Be right back,” Armin spoke to Jean’s back before he turned to take in the scenery. The ocean water was still rough and gray with ribbons of sea foam smashing themselves onto the rocks below. There were so, so many rocks that he had to wonder if there might be a cave nearby. He took groggy steps toward the pine forest where he relieved himself, then looked around for any sign of the horses. Nearby, a plume of smoke was still visible from where a lone tree had been struck by lightning the night before. Thinking ahead, Armin gathered some hot coals that were still smouldering at the trunk of the tree and carried them quickly back, wrapped in layers of wet tall grass and bark. 

 

“Everything come out ok?” Jean asked, glancing over his shoulder.    
  
“What? Oh. Yeah?” Armin didn’t know how to answer a question like that. Jean had been around Levi too long. He almost forgot about the coals he was carrying. “Oh! Oh oh! Here ummm...here that tree that got struck yesterday was still going...we should be able to make fire from this.” 

 

“I can make a fire!” Jean crossed his arms, but his determination alone had not brought forth flame to their camp ring.    
  
“I’m sure you can, but this fire is from the sky and it’s already lit.”    
  
“Any sign of the horses? Or, supplies?”    
  
“I didn’t see any from where I was but I wanted to wait and see if you’d like to search with me. If I found something big I probably couldn’t carry it on my own.” 

 

“Ah, yeah true enough. Think we should try fishing for ...whatever meal this is?” 

 

“I think we could if we found a way to make a net or something...and a way further down to the beach without breaking ourselves.” 

 

“Then you can find it, you can self repair,” Jean grumbled. Armin paused.    
  
“Are you mad at me?” 

 

“What? No! God! I have a headache,” Jean recoiled a little, suddenly aware of his own grouchiness. 

 

“Right. I’ll see what I can do. About food,” Armin quietly took his leave and began to search the clifftop for some way to access the water. He noted the position of the water, and found that it had receded far enough back into itself that a lot of barnacle covered rocks were exposed to the sun..which meant that it would probably return to at least that point and he had to be back towards the dryer stones or else find himself too far out. He still hadn’t gotten the hang of tides yet; the stormy season had made them unpredictable. But first, he had to find a way down. 

 

Finally, by the time he reached the edge of the woods, the cliff face tapered off and downward toward the water, and Armin could access the small beach that had formed there while the water was out. The view from the beach was breathtaking in it’s own way; waves crashing at a distance rather than directly against the face had dragged all varieties of flotsam and jetsam. There were more things here that he were certain were man made, resembling traps and flotation devices and lengths of rope and broken boards and jagged metal. He gathered the rope as he went along, tying all of the lengths he could find together. One of the traps had managed to remain full, and had some sorts of crustaceans in them. Instead of wrestling things with claws, Armin dragged the trap up the beach and tied one end of it to a rock so he could find on the way back. 

 

He collected wire, and nails, and boards, fishing tackle and old hooks and tossed as many up over the shallow cliff and into the sea grass as he could manage, and probably would have kept at it longer if he hadn’t noticed the water beginning to creep closer. The first larger wave announced a shift in the tides, came splashing in and flooded Armin’s boots. Jean would probably be starving by now and in a foul mood if he didn’t hurry back with something. 

 

His eyes searched the ground and realized there were quite a few tide pools around that still contained some sea life. He made a face, trying to grab fish with his hands and failing before he discovered he could use his shirt as a net by knotting the sleeves and the collar closed. He caught three small fish this way, gathered a few mussels and oysters and recovered his lobster trap. By the time he walked back to camp, he was shirtless, wrapped in layers of different colored rope, toting a sack of seafood and dragging a wooden lobster trap...and behind him was a line of random objects thrown from beach level up into the grass to safety. His knuckles bled a little from their brushes against barnacles, but he was excited about his haul.    
  
“Jean! I hope you can cook this!” 

 

Jean stood slowly and blinked at Armin’s wild fisherman appearance, and he coughed to hide a laugh. “What’s “this”? If it’s seafood, that guy from Marley showed me a few things. 

 

“I’m...this is obviously seafood Jean. These are fish, those are some kind of long crab...I think they’re called lobsters. And these shellfish.” Armin set the trap down, freed himself of the ropes, and looked around for a pot. His forbidden book didn’t say much about its inhabitants, and Armin felt woefully underprepared.

 

“I can see that. Ok, yeah I can do this. I need a stick long enough to roast the fish with and --are you bleeding?” Jean forced himself not to back away. This was a new feeling for him; up until Armin had gained the power of the colossal titan his instinct was always to get closer to him when he’d been injured. Now he wanted to run, but he knew it would hurt Armin’s feelings. 

 

“Barnacles are sharp. Don’t worry, it’s already mostly healed up. I’ve no intention of...of...anyway I’ll go find a stick. Make myself useful.” Armin nodded and headed off, devoid of his shirt and his layers of rope. 

 

Jean watched him go, quietly ashamed of himself. He watched Armin hurry off toward the pines, his smooth white skin shining like a beacon. Jean shuddered at the memory of his scorched flesh and the smell he was certain had settled somewhere in his bones. It had been easy at first to pretend that the burnt out husk of a human being sizzling on that rooftop in Shiganshina wasn’t human at all, much less anyone he knew. It looked too different, and even then he disbelieved at first. He could not accept that the body was Armin’s, and the shock of his own wounds and the gravity of the loss around him had rendered him silent. Useless. Ashamed. 

 

Jean didn’t like to think about that day. No one really ever spoke about it except Eren, and Hanji continued to bring Erwin’s name into every conversation possible. And he understood that grief did strange things to people, and they coped in unusual ways. As much as he missed the commander for his leadership and bravery, it was probably better for him in an ironic way to be stranded far from everyone for a while. Jean’s growling stomach brought him back to reality, and he began to clean the fish and boil water to steam the shellfish. Once they both had a solid meal in them, it would be easier to search for the horses and the supplies. 

 

“Found some.” Armin returned with an armload of sticks, and let them drop from his arms. 

 

“Great, thanks Min.” Jean smiled a little. 

 

“Smells edible!” 

 

“Oh, I hope so,” Jean made a face. Cooking things with faces never got easier. “Hey, have a seat. You did a lot this morning.”    
  
Armin sat down right where he was standing. “We need more potable water don’t we.” He almost sprang back up as though the ground were covered in tacks, but Jean took him gently by the arm and led him back to sitting. 

 

“Soon. We have enough for now.”    
  
“Better now while I have energy than when we’re both weak. Weaker.” 

 

“We will be fine once we’ve eaten. We’ve done enough survival runs in boot camp; don’t you remember?”    
  
“I do, but never at the ocean. And I’ve not explored the forest yet because, again, easier with two.”    
  
“And you’re useful, Armin. You don’t have to MAKE yourself ‘useful’. If I were to get lost or shipwrecked with anyone, it’d be you or Sasha as my choice. But I’m leaning towards you of course because you don’t whine nearly as much as she does…”

 

Armin sighed. Jean liked to encourage him when he slipped and said things like this, but it didn’t ever do much to make him feel better. “Thanks, Jean.” Was all he could say at times like this. 

 

Several minutes passed while Armin watched the fire burn, deep in his thoughts. He found himself recoiling around steam, which was difficult to conceal at times. He’d taken to drinking hot soup only after it had cooled off just enough that the vapor wouldn’t hit his face. He hadn’t expected to live at all, and now he had to live this way without daring to complain even once. How could he complain, afterall, now that the commander was dead. He wanted to relax, and with Jean he found more peace than he could around the others. There were moments, though, where Jean fumbled around his words, and Armin wasn’t sure if the kind gestures were for him or if they served to alleviate Jean’s guilt. 

 

“Hey, fish is ready,” Jean handed Armin a slightly smoking skewer. 

 

“Thanks,” he said simply, holding the smoking fish away from him to cool it off. Jean frowned and looked away. 

 

“Do you uh...think there’ll be another storm like last night?”    
  
“We’re entering typhoon season. It’s possible, but I think we have some time to prepare.” 

 

Jean turned his gaze toward the horizon and frowned a little at the clouds he saw forming there. “Hope so. Anyway, there will be time for that after we eat. Cheers.”    
  
He knocked his fish skewer against Armin’s in the fashion of someone clinking wine glasses together. Armin smirked at the absurdity of it all. “Cheers.” 

 

Once they’d eaten their fill and stashed some away for dinner, the two prepared themselves for a walk in the woods. They retraced their steps to the point where yesterday, the horses had been spooked and run off. The trail was easy enough to find since wagon wheels left larger and larger tracks through the woods as the ground softened with increased rain. Perhaps luck was with them for a change, as they found the broken remains of their wagon pushed up against a pine tree about half a kilometer from where they’d spent the night at the seaside. The horses, unfortunately, were nowhere to be found; the yoke leather had pulled and snapped in the rain, leaving them with a wagon full of supplies that were far too heavy to carry back on their own. 

 

While Armin was calculating ways they might be able to transport the supplies by attempting to push the wagon for several trips back and forth, Jean was frowning at the snapped lead. 

 

“Hey, Min? Mind if I try to find the horses? They probably didn’t get too far and I don’t like the look of this tie.” 

 

“I’ll stay with the wagon, but please remember that the ocean is to the west of you and call out occasionally and I’ll answer. Splitting up makes me nervous.” Armin tried to push the wagon away from the tree, which moved it all of a few centimeters.    
  
Jean nodded, though the notion of losing track of the younger man who could become ridiculously tall settled in the back of his mind and oddly amused him. He stole off after deep hoofprints left in mud, upturned moss and broken underbrush for what seemed like further than he should stray.    
  
“Oi! Armin!” He called back.    
  
“Hello!” Armin called back, his voice echoing off trees. “Any luck?”    
  
“Not yet. Still looking.”    
  
To Jean’s great fortune, he wasn’t a terrible tracker. Befriending Sasha was one of the kinder surprises his military life had provided for him and she was an exceptional woodsman. Unfortunately, when he found the horses, only one seemed largely uninjured: a superficial cut on her right front flank seemed to have stopped bleeding. She was wet, and shaken, but otherwise unaffected. The other horse had fallen into an unseen crevasse formed between three large boulders. Her ribcage seemed abnormally shaped, and she was still but alert, tired from trying to kick herself free. Her back legs were undeniably broken, and Jean’s heart fell. The other horse paced around with her lead caught beneath a rock ledge. She would be easy to free and another mouth to feed, but Jean was certain he could do nothing for the other horse. The thought of losing her bit his soft feelings for living things...but especially horses. The Survey Corp had special horses; dauntless, regal creatures with nerves of steel. Lightning had been too  much for her in this strange place. Jean pulled his pistol from it’s holster and wiped his nose with his sleeve, unwilling to do what was necessary. Not while the other horse was watching with concern. 

 

“Hey Armin!!”

 

“HEY!” His voice was further away this time.    
  
“Found them! Find me!”    
  
“Coming!” 

 

It took several intervals of call and response before Armin was able to find Jean seated on one of the large boulders there, stroking the healthy mare on the nose and talking quietly. 

 

“Only one?” Armin was breathing heavy, having run the entire way and not being much for running whatsoever. 

 

“No, both,” Jean swallowed. “ I don’t think the other will make it.” He tried to make his voice hard. Matter of fact. Unaffected. 

 

“Oh.” Armin walked closer to Jean. “Where is she?”    
  
“Behind me. You’ll see.” Jean leaned his forehead against the mare’s star, still petting her to calm her. 

 

Armin walked around to assess the situation and frowned. “Her legs are broken. Her ribs are broken. By the looks of it, she’s pierced something inside of her...Jean I think she’s suffering…”   
  
Jean turned away from the horse he was clinging to. “ I know that, dammit, I just...I can’t…”   
  
Armin winced, watching the struggling horse. She had blood in her teeth. Armin made the decision for him. “Jean, take that horse back to the wagon. I’ll do it.”

 

“--Armin no you really don’t have to...I can...I will…”   
  
“You can’t. Start walking and count to thirty and I’ll be right there.” Armin walked around and swiped the gun from Jean’s holster. Jean reached his hand to stop him, but found Armin’s hand  instead. He caught Armin’s eyes and held them a moment, silently apologizing, willing his own tears not to fall. 

 

“It’s ok, Jean. I know you’re not good with...this sort of thing.”   
  
“It seems I never am,” Jean nearly choked on his own words, but Armin squeezed his hand. “You’re made for other things. Simple as that. Go on back now and start counting.”

 

“And you are?” 

 

“It seems I am in some respects, to the great surprise of many. Now go, she’s suffering and I can’t stand hearing an animal in pain.”    
  
Jean nodded and quickly left, guiding the horse towards the sea with tears sliding down his face. He counted, as Armin had instructed. He counted to thirty, bracing himself, but hearing nothing. Thirty five seconds. Forty. He nearly turned back when a clear shot rang out, echoing through the forest, and Jean fell to his knees crying. He was exhausted, the land itself seemed bent on chewing them up, and he couldn’t pull a trigger on a dying horse much less a woman about to blow his own head off. Everyone called Armin weak, but Jean who’d scored well enough to land a position in the MP if he wanted couldn’t end the suffering of an animal. The horse flinched, but didn’t run. By the time Armin returned to them, all signs of his own tears had been dried. Jean sat on the wagon and accepted his pistol back wordlessly.    
  
“We have to conserve ammo,” Armin said. His shirt sleeve was spattered with blood, but Jean’s gun had been hastily cleaned.    
  
Jean nodded. “I’m sorry…”   
  
Armin shook his head. “It’s done. She’s gone. Let’s unload half of these supplies and see if this horse us up to hauling the rest.” 

 

Jean watched Armin reattach the horse to the broken yolk in a manner that was questionable, but serviced their need for pulling the wagon load. They rode back in silence, Jean full of self admonition and Armin unreadable. 

 

When they returned to their encampment and began building the first half of their beacon, Jean had been unable to speak. When the clouds that had lingered on the horizon earlier loomed over them, the two men made a makeshift sort of stable out of fallen logs where the horse could eat in peace. They attached a tarpaulin over the animal and gave her an extra scoop of oats for her trouble. 

 

“Are you ok?” Armin tried, knowing full well that Jean wasn’t and wouldn’t be in the mood to talk about it unless Armin asked several times and assured him it was okay to confide in him.    
  
“I’m. I’ll be fine. You should wash your shirt. First fish, now blood...so…” Jean’s voice was low, like distant rumbling thunder.

  
  
“I’ll wash it off in the surf over there and meet you back at camp. Another storm is coming in so we don't have much time.” Armin sighed. He’d ask again once they settled into their tent. Jean turned and wandered back like a lost child, clenching and un-clenching his fists as he fought his own mind. Armin scrambled down the little path he'd found earlier and sought a safe place to wash himself. The sea always left a sort of salt residue on his clothes and on his skin. It made him feel tired and unclean. 

‘No,’ Armin thought to himself as he rinsed the blood free from his shirt, scrubbing the thin cloth against the rough stones. ‘It doesn’t get easier if that’s what you’re wondering.’

He watched Jean retreat into their tent and frowned. They were alone out here, just the two of them and the horse, but Armin felt like Jean was an ocean away from him. 

A great wave knocked him over the moment he looked away from the surf, and he found himself thrown against the cliff side to be quick work for the grating barnacles. He screamed into the wind before his mouth filled with water, choking him. The sea was alive, he realized. Alive and in no mood for humans as it dragged him bodily toward it. He clung to his rock again, waiting for a moment to make a break for the pathway. His legs were lead and his clothes were heavy with sea water. The next wave pushed him towards his destination, and he crawled through the rocky sand, shirtless and exhausted from the exertion.

He felt two arms heave him up over strong shoulders before the motion of being carried lulled him into an unnatural sleep. It was the first time the Sea had tried to claim him, and it wouldn't be the last.


End file.
